“Oh, I’d like a lot for them. New York is full of things I want.”
He laughed again.
“We could give you $150 a story. That would be $1,500 for the ten. Then, eventually, we would make a book of them, and you would get 10 per cent. on that.”
“A book? A book, with illustrations, and covers, and all?”
He nodded. “Are those terms satisfactory?”
“Oh, mercy, yes. It sounds like a fortune!”
“When could you begin, Mrs. Jocelyn?”
“Right away, to-day!”
“Well, that will hardly be necessary. If you send copy to us by the fifth, that will be soon enough.”
“All right. Jarvis is selling a play to-day, so probably we will be rich shortly.”
“To whom is Mr. Jocelyn selling his play?”
“Belasco.”
“So! That’s fine! You’ll never have to support him, at that rate.”
“He doesn’t know about my getting the prize and coming to see you, and all. I want to keep it a secret for a time.”
“I understand.”
